Canvas Skies (Reliance on Citizens Makes Us Great!) (7 page)

However, during our trip to New London, Guy
had explained the importance of the high level of etiquette I would
be required to display at upcoming social events. He'd insisted
that I begin practicing immediately, and in all settings, so that
the behavior would become second nature. But this level of courtesy
was downright frustrating! I knew how to open the door for myself
and how to sit in a chair without looking like a lug. I let out a
sigh, which resulted in a stern look from Guy. I looked right back
at him, but then lowered my gaze. He knew what I was thinking, but
I also knew he was right.

Guy took a sip of wine. “First things first.
We need a new contact within the military.”

“What about McGraw?” Harlow asked.
“Shouldn't our objective be to find her? She's your main
contact.”

“Not anymore. She's missing. Our main
objective now is to make sure the movement survives. Individuals
are secondary.”

Harlow countered, “That's how the military
operates. I thought the Resistance was different. We shouldn't
leave her behind, not without knowing what happened.”

“And we won't.” Everyone turned to look at
me. Elite women were taught to defer to their fathers and husbands,
but this was different. Guy and I were partners. To hell with
practice; this was not the time. I uncrossed my legs and leaned
forward. “You're both right. We need to have someone in place
during McGraw's absence. Then we should try to figure out what
happened to her. If we find her, and there's anything we can do to
help, we will.” I reached out and took Harlow's hand. His eyes
widened in surprise, but I held his gaze. “It's what we do. We look
out for each other.” I let go and turned to Guy, “Didn't McGraw
tell you her second, like how Scott told you she was his?”

He nodded. “Kamau, but we've lost contact
with him as well.”

“When?”

“Just tonight.”

“Was he in Special Ops too?”

“Yes. We've lost our main connections to the
military. I need to know why. Harlow, are you ready for a
promotion?”

“Now just a minute.” Again, everyone turned
toward me. Harlow needed to understand what a promotion like this
meant. “In the car, you said you'd been trained to follow orders,
not question them. Accepting this role will require you to do just
that. You'll need to question what you're told and act
independently, while appearing to follow military orders. Can you
do that?”

David thought about it for a few minutes. He
even stood up and walked around the apartment. Then he sat down and
looked me in the eye. “Yes, I can.”

“Okay then, you need to know some things
before we can ask you to accept such a position.” We needed to tell
him about what happened at Ramsey Corps. I looked at Eberhardt, Guy
and even Aimee. They all nodded in agreement.

***

So it was decided. David Harlow was our new
link to the military. He wasn't ideal. He didn't have the clearance
or leadership skills that usually accompanied such a position, but
if someone was onto us, they probably wouldn't suspect him either.
Plus, the people who'd gone missing were all in Special Ops and
Harlow wasn't.

“Do you think they're doing it again?” he
asked. He meant genetic manipulations and cloning, Ramsey Corps's
specialty.

I'd wondered the same, but Guy had his own
opinions about that. “If they are, it's not Ramsey Corps. Elaine
Ramsey and her partners would raise too many suspicions both here
and overseas. We took them out the right way. We shared their dirty
laundry with the world, and it brought them down completely. But,”
he paused and looked around the table before he continued, “I've
been following the newsvids carefully. Watching for any hint of
genetic engineering, for any mention of the doctors and scientists
we learned about from the Ramsey files.”

We hung onto every word.

Guy shook his head. “There's been nothing.
However, there have been some shifts in the political arena over
the past few months. A couple of new ministers have been appointed,
and some who had the same ideals as us have been pushed out. Prime
Minister Armstrong. He's been with the ministry forever, and now
he's at the top. I know him personally. He's ruthless.” Guy sat
back. “That's all I've got.”

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a
long thin piece of paper. Handing it to Harlow, he said, “These are
the military personnel who side with the Resistance. Stay here
tonight and memorize those names.”

I knew the list in Harlow's hands had been
culled from the master list, of which there were only two
hand-printed copies. Guy had one and Scott had the other.

“I want to know if anyone else has
disappeared. I'll expect a report by the end of the week.”

“Yes, sir!”

Before we left, I also handed Harlow a slip
of paper. It had two transceiver numbers written on it, mine and
Guy's. “Memorize those too and keep in contact.”

Then Guy handed Harlow one more item, a
special cufflink, a serpent striking at a gold coin. It was how the
other soldiers and officers would recognize Harlow as their new
link to the Resistance.

The next morning, streaks of sunlight
splashed across the burgundy comforter. I stretched and stood, then
reached for my red satin bathrobe. Tying it at the waist, I made my
way into the kitchen and began rummaging through cabinets and
drawers, in a search for breakfast supplies. I put a pot of water
on the stove to boil before carefully spreading a white embroidered
tablecloth on the dining table. Then I set three places. I found a
beautiful porcelain tea set, placed a few teabags into the pot and
added the boiling water. I took the pot and three teacups with
saucers to the table and sat down to wait. When Keira joined me a
short time later, I was surprised to see her alone.

“He didn't stay?”

“No, it's better for him to leave while
everyone is asleep.” She sat across from me. "The neighbors think
I'm single. Oh, be careful what you say to Miss Violet in 1023.
She's a gossip."

I raised my eyebrows, but Keira only
shrugged and said, “I've been sociable.”

“You? Sociable with the neighbors?” I
laughed. “Why?”

“Practice. And besides, people are just
people, no matter their social standing.”

“You really believe that?” It didn't sound
like the Keira I'd grown up with.

“Guy does, and I'm trying to.”

“I don't get it. You two have been together
for over a year, and you've been living with him for months. His
parents really don't know? His friends either?”

“Well, some of his friends know because
they're my friends too, but they're all about keeping secrets.”

I rested my chin on my palm and studied her
face. “You don't agree.”

Keira stared back.

“What is it?”

“I agree that secrets can be used to keep
people safe, but...I just think if everyone knew more, we could
start a revolution.”

“What?” My voice was sharper than I had
intended.

“Too many people believe the Resistance is
just an urban legend. That keeps Resistance fighters safe because
what kind of a threat are we if no one believes in us? But I keep
wondering, how can we change society unless everyone knows?”

“Keira, if the wrong people hear you,
they'll take you away and do what they did to Scott, probably
worse.”

“There's always a chance of that. Just after
you left, wanted posters for all three of us went up.”

“What? Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because it didn't affect you before.” Keira
leaned forward. “They couldn't get to you in Mediterra, and you had
enough on your mind. Anyway, we don't even know who posted them.
There's just a number, no name. We don't know if it was because of
the Palamara report or because of Beckett or some combination. We
just don't know. ” She waved her hand like it was of little
concern.

I stood. “Keira, stop trying to protect me!
You always do that, and you just can't, okay? You can't protect me
all the time.”

Her face paled a shade. “I'm sorry.”

I moved around the table and rested my hand
on her shoulder. Keira looked up at me.

“We need to support each other. I need you
to talk to me, to trust me to be able to handle things. Do you
understand?”

Keira nodded, and I bent down to hug her.
There really wasn't anything more to say, so I simply asked, “Are
you hungry? I could make crepes.”

“Toast will be fine.”

I moved toward the counter that separated
the kitchen and dining areas, but Keira took a deep breath and
stopped me. “No, you sit. I'll get it. What would you like?”

“I'll have a piece of toast too, with apple
jelly.” I sat down and poured myself some tea, then gently lifted
the white teacup with bluebells on it. I inhaled the sweet aroma of
peaches before taking a sip. The porcelain clinked when I set the
cup on the saucer.

Tea and coffee were luxuries here, reserved
for the Elite, but after living abroad, I knew it wasn't because
they were terribly expensive to import. Scott said the prices on
certain food items had been inflated by the Gov as a way to keep
the Divide strong.

Keira returned to the table with two small
plates of toast. She handed one to me, then sat down and poured a
cup of tea.

“You didn't answer my question before. Guy's
parents really don't know about you? How is that even possible?
You've been living together for months. What do his neighbors
think?”

Keira shrugged. “They think he's a player.
That's how he's described in the newsvids.”

“Really?”

“I come and go in so many different outfits
and hair styles, I'm pretty sure they believe he's the eligible
young bachelor the media's been describing. People usually see what
they want to see, you know, and I haven't attended any Elite events
with him or anything.”

“And he doesn't go alone,” I guessed.

Keira simply shook her head.

“Wow, and you're okay with that?”

She shurgged. “It's like a job.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“I do the same for my job, and you know
it.”

“What? You mean you still...” My eyes grew
wide.

“No. No, that's reserved for Guy now.”

We were quiet for a few minutes.

Then I asked, “So, how is this going to work
exactly?”

“What do you mean?”

“This.” I gestured around the apartment.
“Our living arrangements. My work. Where do we begin?”

“Well, you have the master bedroom, and
you'll decide what your life here is going to be like. I'll follow
your lead. Okay?”

I nodded, still a little unsure.

“Of course, you'll get to attend benefits
and galas and such. It's part of your station now, but we can do
that together, as friends. As far as anyone around here is
concerned, Kendra James is new in town too.” She paused. “What
would you like to do today?”

“I guess I should try to find a job. I'll
apply at some of the local galleries.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Well, it's either that or open up one of my
own.”

“Which would you prefer?”

“Is that even possible? A gallery of my
own?”

Keira smiled. “Actually, it would be safer
for all of us but only if you're up for it.”

“I am! It's a dream come true.”

“Then that's what we'll do today.” Keira
stood and went to her bedroom. She returned with her transceiver.
“Eberhardt can drive us around, and we'll look for a place that
meets your standards.”

I felt numb. A gallery of my own!

***

A few days later, Kendra James and Richard
Burke met for the first time. I'd found a building I liked in a
classy downtown neighborhood and called Danielle to see what she
thought about opening a second branch.

Danielle then contacted Burke Investments
and requested someone of high standing within the company represent
Art Fantastique in setting up a second store in Tkaron. She
explained that her associate had already located a building.

Apparently, Richard Burke, Sr. was thrilled
to have a new client from Mediterra, and he personally scheduled an
inspector to confirm that the building was in good condition before
proceeding. Shortly thereafter, a meeting was arranged between the
realtor and me, with Richard Burke, Jr. acting as my
representative. We met in a conference room at Burke Investments.
Although I'd never been involved in anything like that before, it
seemed pretty standard. Guy negotiated the price down while I sat
quietly and let him do all of the talking. I signed when and where
he told me to.

Afterward, Guy offered to personally
accompany me back to my gallery. An older gentleman, with a full
head of jet black hair, watched us leave. Richard Burke, Sr. smiled
when he caught me looking in his direction. Was he hoping I might
be the one to tame his son's heart? I smiled back. Little did he
know, my best friend, “Kendra” was waiting to do just that.

Keira met us at the gallery, and after a
brief tour, “Richard” decided to spend the afternoon with us. He
helped me find a reputable painting service to prepare the interior
of the store to my liking and also hired someone to create a sign
for the front. As the evening hour drew upon us, Guy took us both
out to dinner at a high class restaurant, one of his father's
favorites. According to Keira, taking two women out to dinner
together fit “Richard's” profile. A couple of men stopped by to
introduce their wives. Word would certainly get back to Guy's
father.

The following morning, Guy checked in with
me from the lobby of Burke Investments. He told us later, he'd been
overheard by no less than a dozen people offering the assistance of
his driver and his extensive knowledge of the city in the form of a
tour.

Things were going exactly as planned.